


Gray

by LaughingWombat



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Brothers, Gen, Healing, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:08:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25986415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaughingWombat/pseuds/LaughingWombat
Summary: Adult Sasuke is on a mission and stops to rest at a one-room shack. It's there that he has a strange encounter with a young Itachi.
Relationships: Uchiha Itachi & Uchiha Sasuke
Comments: 12
Kudos: 71





	Gray

**Author's Note:**

> I recently joined AO3, and I figured I would crosspost this from FF.net. I did a bit of grammar work on it too. Please enjoy.

The taste of water hung heavy in the bitter air, right on the border of freezing. Sasuke’s black and purple eyes examined the cloudy churning sky. It wouldn't be long. A mixture of snow and rain, perhaps. Sasuke placed another log on the stump and brought an ax down, splintering the wood halfway. He lifted the rusted tool, lodged firmly into the log, and brought it back down onto the stump, finishing the split. He added the smaller one to his pile and repositioned the larger to be split again.

A feathering across his mind caused him to look up. Through the darkness of the trees, he saw the silhouette of a person. Its movements were slow. Sasuke lifted the ax once more and brought it down onto the wood splitting it in one strike. He leaned over, placed both in the woodpile, then proceeded to scoop several into his arm and press them against his chest. He turned and walked to his shack, using his foot to push the door open.

Past the small dusty table, he deposited his load next to the wood-burning stove. He stroked the coals within and fed it another stick. Its door whined in protest of the meager offering it was given. Sasuke went back out and stopped at the thresh hold. The figure could be clearly made out now, a boy, genin age. His shoulders sagged forward, the color of rust was splattered over his muted uniform and face. An ANBU so young was a thing of the past. The boy stopped at the tree lining, and he looked up without lifting his head. Black against black, silenced prevailed stealing even the breath in his lungs. His heart spoke before his lips, but his mind did not understand until his ears caught the sound, "Itachi."

The boy's head lifted, and his mouth parted slightly, "you know me." A statement, an acknowledgment of the truth. He knew him, just not at this angle. Sasuke turned his head just so, taking in the youth before him with the sage's eye. He leaned down and gathered another load of wood into his arm and turned to return to his shack. He stopped at the threshold, "bring the rest."

Sasuke allowed the wood to clatter onto the pile by the stove. He took the kettle to the sink and poured water into it from the pitcher, then he placed it on the stove and added two more sticks. As he stroked the coals, the boy stood at the threshold. Sasuke simply focused on the task at hand until Itachi unloaded his burden. The elder retrieved two buckets in one hand and held them out to the ANBU child, "the pump is to the north." Itachi slowly reached for them, his dark eyes searching Sasuke's face. He turned his back to Itachi and went to the cabinet above the sink, where he kept the tea. The door hinges creaking was the only signal he had that the ANBU child had done as he was told. In Sasuke's hands was a small tin of tea, there was little left. He placed the powder into both bowls. He then turned to watch the dingy kettle on the stove. Beyond him, he could hear the splashing of water and the pump’s sound in need of oil.

The kettle sputtered slowly to life, and its wails became more demanding with time. He took a rag that had long ago lost its color and grasped the handle with it. The hot water lapped against the sides of the bowl, filling them about halfway. He stirred with a whisk, but it would not froth up properly. He placed it in the sink, then took the rice from his breakfast and scooped a helping into each bowl. He was just putting it on the table when the boy came in with two pails full. "Place them with the others." It was a single room, so it was easy to find the other buckets of water neatly lined against the wall by the sink.

Itachi silently returned, lowering to the floor beside the table, his legs tucked under him. Sasuke sat cross-legged and lifted his spoon to mix the rice with the tea, waiting for it to rejuvenate. He could feel dark, questioning eyes on him, "you know me, Uncle, but I do not know you."

Sasuke paused in his movements. Uncle? Was he indeed that old? He looked at the fleshy cheeks and determined that yes, perhaps he was. It was odd to be referred to as such from the boy – no man in front of him. After all, could he honestly be called a boy after all he had done? "How strange, you wear the blood of your relatives, and yet you call me Uncle."

"You are an Uchiha, are you not?" came the man's reply.

Sasuke's mouth twitched up, and he brought his cup to his lips. Ah, this game. He was never very good at it. He didn't possess the patience that Itachi did. "I am."

"I do not know you."

He placed the cup down after a sip of the weak tea. "Has not the clan been reduced to two?" Itachi seemed to jerk as if slapped. "How can you not know me then?"

A long silence followed, and Sasuke indulged himself in watching his brother's face. It was not often that he had the upper hand; he’d even go as far as to say he had never experienced this before. A look of clarity overcame the confusion, did he understand? "There is another," the voice was almost tentative, "he is young and in need of instruction. Perhaps you, you who are Uchiha, can care for him. Teach him. He is my brother but is now alone."

"Does he not have all of Konoha?" His reply was sharp. His voice harsh. Had he still not forgiven his brother after all these years? After knowing the truth? Was he still angry?

Itachi melted before him, his shoulders slumped forward, his head drooping. Never had he seen him in such a stance. It caused Sasuke to reconsider his words, "A village cannot replace family or clan, but I cannot go to him."

The man looked up, and for a moment, Sasuke's breath caught at the sight. The murky depths wavered like poorly made glass; tears. "Please," the young voice trembled, but still, Sasuke didn't, couldn't say anything. The boy, prostrated himself before Sasuke, "Please, he is in need. I cannot – I," there was a sharp intake, "please."

Silence once more claimed the room like a draft. "I cannot," Sasuke stated firmly. "It is not because I will not," his voice a touch softer. "Now lift yourself from such a position."

"Why?"

"The floor is dirty," Sasuke answered, silently amused at the irritation that crossed his brother's features. Perhaps he was better at this than he thought.

"Then, it is where I belong."

"Don't say such things," Sasuke admonished him.

"Then tell me why."

They stared at one another before Sasuke relented with a sigh. "How would it be different than caring for oneself?"

Itachi looked confused, and Sasuke had to admit he found it humors. This one, who had always spoken in riddles now being subjected to them. He understood why Itachi had often partaken in the practice; it was fun. Perhaps Naruto was more correct in calling him a bastard than either of them previously thought. "You reduced the clan to two, Itachi." His voice forging the sound of patience, "If I am an Uchiha, then I must be the other half."

Itachi stared at him for a moment, seeming to have forgotten his oath to remain prostrated on his dirty floor, "You are suggesting that you're Sasuke." Sasuke nodded his head in acknowledgment, "how?"

"I do not know. What happened to you just a moment ago, happened a lifetime ago for me." He dipped his spoon into the bowl to scoop out the rejuvenated rice allowing Itachi's eyes to inspect him as much as he wished.

"You speak the truth, or at least you believe it."

"Do you?"

A pregnant pause, then a resigned look, "I do."

"Then we can move on."

"To what?" Itachi questioned.

A smirk pulled on Sasuke's lip, and he lifted his dripping spoon out of the bowl, "to eating, it will be cold soon."

Itachi looked to the bowl then to the spoon beside it. He carefully lifted the spoon and attempted to wipe it discreetly. A boy covered in blood is concerned with the cleanness of his utensil. He supposed he could understand. This was a boy that just left Mikoto's table. She had taken pride in the neatness of her home and would be disturbed in such surroundings.

They ate in silence, but it was quickly consumed. There wasn't much to the small meal, Itachi still managed a polite thanks to which Sasuke waved it off. "It was a worthless share, but I do not intend to stay here much longer."

"This is not your home?" Itachi asked.

"No, it is a Konoha safe house. I am on a mission."

Itachi looked relieved by the answer. It wasn't that bad. If he was a single man on his own, he honestly didn't need more than this. He had lived in caves before; this was a step up. "You are loyal to Konoha then."

Was that his worry? "I am."

His confusion must have been readable because Itachi continued, "You are not wearing your forehead protector."

"Yes, well yours is scratched out, not everything is as it appears."

Itachi leaned back, and his eyes widened, "you know."

"That it was Konoha that ordered the massacre? Yes."

"Yet, you invited me, and you are loyal to Konoha."

"Isn't that what you wanted?" Sasuke asked. "Isn't that why you kept it secret from me so that I would remain loyal to Konoha? You created yourself the villain in my world to distract me from the real villains in this world and alleviate your guilt."

Itachi looked ready to argue, but Sasuke rebuked him, "Do not lie to me, Itachi." He didn't know what caused it, but Itachi's mouth snapped closed with an audible click, and his back went painfully stiff. The response harkened back to his daughter, one of the few times her mouth ran away with her, and she crossed a line. There were moments when she could be as careless with words as her mother. He got up troubled by the childish image his brother had produced.

He grabbed two pieces of steel and a bowl of water. He placed it in the center of the table. Sasuke removed his chokutou and settled into a position to sharpen the blade. Itachi watched him for a few minutes before reaching for the other steel to work on his sword.

The sound of scrapping filled the room for the better part of an hour. Sasuke returned his steel to the water and examined his handiwork. "I am not loyal to Konoha," he announced. Itachi paused in his movements. "I am loyal only to my bonds. It is my bonds that are loyal to Konoha."

"You have a family?" Itachi asked a strange tone in his voice Sasuke could not place.

Still, he remained silent, choosing to stand up and test his work on one of the sticks of wood they had carried in. He felt a kind of knot in his stomach when Itachi had questioned him. His mind had immediately gone to Sarada and Sakura. There was a dread, an irrational fear that Itachi would go to them and murder them. He tossed the wood in the air, and it came down in two pieces. He looked back at Itachi, who was still waiting for an answer, his eyes larger than he remembered. "I do," he finally admitted.

A tired smile pulled at Itachi's face, "I am glad. It seems that despite my fears, the clan remains loyal to Konoha, and you are well."

"Hn."

The rain pelted against the window; despite the coldness in the air, it had not gotten cold enough to freeze it. His floors and table had a shine to them, clearly pleased to be free of the dirt from Sasuke's neglect. Itachi had determined to clean them, saying it was only right that he repay Sasuke's kindness. Sasuke saw through it, though, he knew it was because, regardless of their ages, Itachi still wanted to take care of his younger brother, and he was disgusted by the state of his shack. So Sasuke let him in exchange for allowing Sasuke to wash his clothes. Now his older brother's clothes hung around the room drying while the boy slept in Sasuke's bedroll, dressed in clothing too large for him.

He leaned against the wall and wondered at the day. Why had Itachi come to him in this way? If only he had come to him sooner, perhaps they could have found a way to save their clan. Maybe they could have stopped all that had transpired. Yet, couldn't he have changed things now? If the clan was beyond saving, perhaps he could have saved Itachi? He looked at the sleeping boy’s face, his brows furrowed in his troubled sleep. Still, Sasuke didn't wake him as he would have for his daughter. Was he still angry? Did he still blame his brother, this boy? How old was he? He was not much older than his daughter, if older than her at all. For a breath, he placed Sarada and Itachi in the same place. That breath was all it took to break Sasuke's heart.

Could his daughter have made the right decision if it had been placed on her shoulders? Could Sarada have been expected to decide between her parents and her village? There were times she couldn't even determine what notebook she wanted to purchase. She relied on her parents to protect her from things she couldn't understand, from people that would manipulate and use her because of her heritage. Where were Itachi's parents? Why wasn't he protected the way a child should be? Why was he placed in such a position that even an adult would be hard-pressed to know the right solution? Was it little wonder that he was manipulated in the fashion he was? Was it that strange that Itachi would be so burdened by guilt that he wanted to die? Still, Konoha sent him on another mission far beyond a child's capability, thus preventing him from taking his own life. Was it odd that he then gave that task to the one person he felt deserved revenge? Did Itachi become consumed with grief? Had Itachi walked away from that time, not as a man who conquered the test he created, but rather the broken child that appeared outside his shack?

His hand moved to soothe his brother's brow. "I understand Itachi," he murmured and lowered his head to touch the boy's, "you were too young. You were easily manipulated, did the best you could, and trusted the ones who should have protected you. I forgive you, Itachi. I hope that you'll be able to forgive yourself one day, either in this life or the next."

The sun was warm against Sasuke's face; he blinked and looked around at the vacant room. His bedroll was tucked against his things while his brother and his things were nowhere to be seen. "A dream?" he murmured. He stood up and stretched himself, noting how the wood floors glowed in the sunlight. He filled his tea kettle and returned it to the stove before stroking it back to life. He stopped at the polished little wooden table and smiled at the bowl with two pieces of steel. Perhaps Itachi came too late to be saved from his fate, but for Sasuke, it seems it was time to go home and raise the Uchiha clan.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one-shot. I hope you enjoyed it. The Uchiha Brothers' relationship sure is a tragic one, makes me sad just thinking about it. I may not have done it justice, but I wanted to try my hand at it. Thank you for taking the time out to read it.  
> -LaughingWombat


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